A Bond of Blood
by GallifreyanMaiden
Summary: Petunia discovers something interesting when she unearths Harry's birth certificate.
1. Chapter 1

A Bond of Blood

By GallifreyanMaiden

A/N- This fic is, in part, a tribute to two fics on Potions and Snitches that I found absolutely enchanting; 'Win The War: Consanguinity' by Luna Carmesi as well as 'My Brother, My Hero' by harrysnapefan. If you like this fic, I would encourage you to take a look at these two as well.

Chapter One- Truths Uncovered

…

_Spring_

For Petunia Dursley, the most magical (although she would certainly not approve of the use of_ that_ word) time of the year was not Christmas, which was largely ruined for her by the mess of snow and pine needles being tracked into her clean home; nor was it, perish the thought, Halloween, which reminded her all too much of her freaky sister (as if having to house her brat wasn't reminder enough)…No, for Petunia Dursley, the day she looked forward to without end was the first warm, clear day of spring, for it was on that day that she would clean the attic.

Most would consider Petunia Dursley's attic more than tolerably clean. Indeed, the Dursley attic would put most others in the neighborhood to shame by comparison. However, Petunia saw flaws where others would not; the dust gathering in the corners, the stale air, the sheer amount of useless garbage that had begun to creep up on her (again, not impressive by the standards of her neighbors). Petunia Dursley took pride in every corner of her suburban utopia being spotless…it was, indeed, her number one priority. She smiled brightly as she threw open the windows, letting in the sweet-smelling spring air and the watery morning sun

Hours passed uneventfully. Petunia scrubbed viciously at the floors, wearing her rarely-seen jeans and a bleach-stained blouse, her shoulder-length blonde hair tied up in a scarf. Each patch of floor received equal, meticulous attention- by the time she had finished with the floor, the room smelt strongly of bleach and the sun was high in the sky. Wiping her hands on her pants, Petunia climbed down the attic steps and ate a quick lunch at the pristine kitchen table.

When she returned to the attic, she decided that it would be best if she went through the safe where the family kept all of their important documents. She hadn't bothered to go though it in a while- not since Dudley had applied to Smeltings…not since he and the boy were in primary school before that. She would need those papers for Dudders once he began applying to university. Besides that, she decided, she wanted all of the boy's things in one place- the last thing she wanted was something of his left in her house once he finally left for good.

Petunia opened the safe and began to sort the papers into piles; Dudley, Dudley, Vernon, herself, Vernon, Dudley, the boy, herself…

But something wasn't right.

That didn't look like a birth certificate.

She held up Dudley's birth certificate, her mouth forming a tiny, perfect 'o'.

This was quite wonderful…like a great many holidays at once, only without all of that horrid mess.

Petunia held the papers for quite a long time, not knowing what to do with the information that she had so often wished for. Fantasies and wishes were one matter…having your dearest dream fall into your lap was quite another.

The boy did not need to be her problem.

She could pass him off to someone else.

And it would all be entirely above board.

This was different form sending him off to an orphanage- oh, she and Vernon had considered it, briefly, when he had been dropped on their door step almost fifteen years ago, but had almost immediately dismissed it, as it might cause the neighbors to talk. In a bad situation (in a terrible, horrid situation) they had ultimately decided that the course that made them look charitable was best.

But this…if the neighbors got wind of this they could simply say, "Oh, it hurt, of course. We raised the boy like he was our own, you know. But, well, in the end, we just didn't think that it was _right_ to keep him from his _proper_ family."

Yes indeed, the fact that Harry Potter was adopted was the best bit of luck that had fallen into Petunia's lap in a long while.

She could have smacked herself for never having looked through his papers more closely; but when he was dumped with them, they'd been given nothing but an address. When she'd needed to enroll the boys in primary school, she'd just sent a curt note telling them to send a copy of his birth certificate to the school. They had sent her a copy as well and she'd thrown it in here, barely sparing it a glance, promptly forgetting about it.

Until now.

Petunia busied herself with work to burn off her nervous energy until Vernon came home. The attic was cleaner than it had ever been.

She ran to the front door when she heard her husband coming in and shoved the paper into his chest with enough force to make him release a little 'oomph'.

"Read it," she said as she bounced back and forth on her heels, her voice almost hysterical.

Vernon Dursley was initially rather concerned for his wife. She rarely showed this much naked enthusiasm for anything, let alone random bits of yellowing paper. It was obviously important to her, though, so, to placate her, he read…and as he read, his face slowly transitioned to shock and then from shock to unbridled glee.

"We can get rid of him?"

…

_Summer_

Vernon waited for his nephew outside Platform 9 ¾, between platforms 9 and 10, a nasty grin on his face.

That grin widened as he saw the scrawny teenager push the trolley with his trunk and owl atop it into the general chaos of King's Cross. Grabbing the trolley and pushing it quickly towards the exit, he shouted gruffly over his shoulder, "Come on, boy, haven't got all day."

His uncle's strange behavior snapped Harry out of his lethargic state and put him on guard. Something was about to happen and he very much doubted he would like it. Harry just managed to grab Hedwig's cage before his uncle carelessly tossed his trunk into the car. She gave an indignant hoot, to which he responded with a mild glare. This was no time for her nonsense.

"What are you waiting for, boy?" shouted Vernon, "Get in the bloody car."

Harry got in the car, albeit reluctantly…he had the most curious feeling that he was walking towards the gallows.

Harry tensed as they drove…before, he hadn't been able to put his finger on what felt odd, but now, at last, there was something he could put a name to.

"You're not driving towards Little Whinging," he murmured, beginning to sweat.

Vernon only laughed, he laughed like he was going mad. Once he recovered himself enough to speak, he replied, "Observant, aren't you? No, we're not going back to Surry. We're actually going to a town in Manchester…Do you know why that is, boy?" he asked, continuing in his cruel laughter.

"No," answered Harry warily, not liking this at all.

Harry began to feel sick at the unbridled look of glee spreading across his uncle's face,"Because Petunia found an absolutely lovely little form that says _you_ are not our problem anymore," Harry felt truly nauseous, "I may have it framed," he said airily.

Harry struggled to breathe. He felt as if a dozen hippogriffs were piled atop his chest.

"I-I don't understand," he finally managed to stammer weakly.

Vernon's smile was more foul than ever, "You were adopted, _boy,_ and your real father never agreed to it. He can take you back if he wants to…which he does. Petunia happened to know him when she was growing up. Quite the stroke of luck, actually…"

"You-you can't do this," Harry said desperately trying to make his voice sound braver than he felt, "I can't leave-"

"Bollocks," Vernon replied carelessly, as he honked at another driver who had cut him off, "You know, I've always thought that there was something fishy about your lot, boy. Dropping you on your good, hard-working relatives. Petunia and I have talked and we've decided that all of this blood wards whosey-whatsit was just a load tripe that your friends told us to make sure that we didn't ship you off to some orphanage."

Harry paled considerably. So this was really happening, then. Not even the abject terror that the Dursleys felt for most wizards would keep them from shipping him off to some random bloke who had agreed to take him. Harry's mouth set in a thin line. The Dursleys had been no picnic…but someone new? Sure, his 'father' could easily be better (the competition wasn't exactly stiff), but that was never really his luck, now was it?

"Wha- how- who is- Please tell me this is a joke," he finally said, desperately hoping that Vernon was just looking to add psychological torture to his repertoire as well.

Vernon only gave a repugnant chortle in response.

"Who is he?" Harry barely whispered. Lily and James Potter had always been his parents. True, they had always been dead as well…but those pictures…the stories from Remus and (he swallowed a hard lump that had formed in his throat) Sirius. He always felt like he knew them. He always felt that, however briefly, he'd been loved.

Vernon shrugged, as if the man he would be leaving his nephew with was of little importance, "Some bloke who worked at the mill Petunia's dad managed. Tobias Snape, I think it was. Bloody funny name if you ask me. He's not one of your lot, though."

In a daze, Harry shook his head. A _Snape. _He would be a bloody _Snape_…he could only hope that he wouldn't be related to _that _Snape. He shuddered. Even his luck wasn't _that_ awful. They pulled up in front of a house that appeared to have been built sometime in the forties and then largely left to its own devices. It was quite the sight…perhaps not as bad as the Shrieking Shack, but certainly on its way.

"Here we are boy!" said Vernon, practically pushing him out of the car, only stopping long enough to ensure that his trunk was resting beside him on the sidewalk. His tires squealed as he drove away; leaving no evidence of his ever having been there at all, save for a gaping nephew and a set of impressive skid marks.

Harry stayed that way, on the sidewalk, gaping, with his trunk and owl, until a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He supposed that it was meant to be comforting. Harry turned to look into the man's weather-beaten, severe face; with his iron-gray hair, hooked nose and heavy, protruding brow, one could not deny that he was imposing. But, to Harry, at least, he also seemed a bit stuck. Tobias stood awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck for a moment, seemingly entirely unsure of how to go about this.

"Well, kid…" he said, finally, apparently having decided to go for the straightforward approach, his voice low and rough from disuse, "Hello. I'm Tobias." His thick, gray eyebrows knitted together self-consciously as he extended a densely calloused hand for Harry to shake.

_..._

A/N- Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

A Bond of Blood

A/N- Wow! This fic really exploded in popularity, far, far beyond what I had expected. I can only be grateful (as always) to my readers, for their attention and encouragement. My apologies for the wait- I have been writing two rather lengthy chapters simultaneously to make sure that they sync up. Great from a narrative perspective, but it does take a little bit more time/effort.

Anyway, on with the show.

-GM

Chapter Two- Pursuing Potter

…

_Summer, Hogwarts_

Never in living memory had anyone seen Albus Dumbledore so mad that he could spit; normally the possessor of a cool and calculated logic in the face of adversity, his eyes currently flashed with unconcealed rage as he read over the report from Tonks, crushing the parchment in his hand.

"You're certain nothing was planned for his return to Surrey, Severus?" he asked, far more sharply than he had intended of the man across from him.

Severus Snape, a man far braver than the average wizard, merely curled his lip and snorted before responding, "Not bloody likely..." he trailed off, his voice losing a touch of its malice, "Unless the Dark Lord knows far more about me than I would like to assume." He hated to sound so weak, especially in front of Dumbledore, but the possibility was an uncomfortably realistic one.

At that, the older man softened.

"My boy," he said, laying a wizened old hand over the thin, elegant one belonging to the younger wizard. Dumbledore certainly wasn't foolish enough to bother with empty promises and meaningless platitudes- not with the shrewd Potions Master. The truly uncomfortable fact was that there was a distinct possibility that Voldemort might hide a plan to kidnap Dumbledore's Golden Boy from Severus.

"You have heard nothing, though?" asked Dumbledore again, far more gently.

"Nothing," rasped Severus as he fell back into one of Dumbledore's plethora of squashy armchairs, looking drained, "May I?" he asked, outstretching a potions-stained palm for the crumpled piece of parchment.

Dumbledore sighed and handed the scrap of parchment that bore Tonks' frantic scribbles; she had sent a Patronus ahead, of course, but Albus had the presence of mind to coax the Auror into making a full report at Hogwarts. Severus scanned the paper intently, his eyebrows slowly rising into his hairline.

"Albus," he said cautiously, "Did you see this?" he handed the paper back to the Headmaster, pointing at a sentence somewhere in the middle of the page. He handed off the page, allowing the Headmaster to bring it closer to his face. His eyebrows rose as well.

"My, my…well, Severus. This is," he let out a long-suffering breath, "Interesting."

Severus snorted, "Interesting? It's more than that, old man. It's proof. Those muggles would have been used as playthings by any of the Dark Lord's followers."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and nodded solemnly. It did not appear to comfort him that the only logical explanation to his problem appeared to have been disproven.

Severus rose from his seat, his robes billowing slightly about his boots, "I will Floo the woman across the way from his relatives…what's her name? Figg?"

Dumbledore simply nodded and waved a hand towards his own Floo.

Severus tossed in the sparkling powder and stuck his head into the green flames. He was deposited in the rather fussy home of an old widow who was currently surrounded by several cats. The woman jumped rather badly upon his appearance, upsetting her tea.

"Severus!" she exclaimed, recovering herself, "You'll have to excuse me. I never really get many people coming through that blasted thing…"

"Yes, yes…" he said, trying to wave off the squib as best he could with only his voice, "Albus has sent me to ask if you've seen the Dursleys about of late."

The old woman looked bemused, "Yes," she replied, thinking carefully, "I saw Vernon leave to get Harry from King's Cross yesterday, but I didn't watch too carefully for his return. He was a bit later than I would have expected him to be, though- they're usually back by 5 or so, but I didn't see Vernon's car in the drive until about 7. I didn't see him get out," she snapped, cutting him off before he could ask, "Had to feed the cats, you know," she said, making a sweeping gesture towards the ugly cat-Kneazle hybrids she bred.

Severus made a disgruntled face, _Stupid woman,_ he thought (and several other uncomplimentary terms besides), "You haven't seen the Potter boy?" he asked, though he knew what her answer would be.

She shook her head, tutting in a disgustingly sentimental fashion, "No, no…But it's to be expected, now, isn't it? With what's happened at the Ministry? Besides, his relatives usually keep him rather busy with the gardening, at least for the first week back or so."

Severus nodded curtly- so that was why the mad old bint hadn't bothered to send word to Albus.

"He's missing," he told the woman sharply, "The Auror we put on him never saw him come home, just the uncle," Severus said, taking quite a bit of pleasure in her startled gasp. Served the old biddy right. She had _one_ bloody job…

Having what he needed, he didn't bother with the social niceties of good-byes; he simply pulled his head out of the fire and stood, rather annoyed, in Dumbledore's office.

"The Figg woman's seen the Dusleys out and about, alright," he muttered, throwing himself down, "Only thing she's noticed out of the ordinary was the time the uncle returned- two hours later than he usually does, but she didn't see him pull in the drive. She was," Severus's lip curled impressively, "feeding her cats at the time."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, "Well, Severus…I suppose that you and I shall be making a small visit to Privet Drive."

Snape could feel a raging headache coming on.

…

_Summer, Privet Drive_

Late that evening, under cover of nightfall, two strangers appeared on Privet Drive, the former home of one Harry Potter. The light of the streetlamps was harsh against their skin and made the older man's flowing, aubergine robes stand out starkly next to the conservative black of his younger companion. The younger man looked around the islands of light provided by the street lamps shiftily; to anyone watching (although no one was, the denizens of this particular town having gone to their beds long ago) he would appear to be looking for prospective enemies to materialize at any point.

That hypothetical observer would be quite on point.

The older man was seemingly unfazed and withdrew from a pocket deep within his curious garment an elaborate cigarette lighter. His more cautious companion did not look in the least concerned that his cohort appeared to be interested in nothing more than a good smoke.

The younger man, in fact, snorted, "Really, Albus?" he asked, "That thing? A simple Nox would do just as well, you know."

Albus' smile was a bit wicked, as he clucked, "It breaks my heart, Severus, that young people," shaking his head in mock remorse, "Show no appreciation for showmanship."

Severus simply snorted again.

Albus clicked the lighter once, and a light at the end of the street went out. Again, and the next light went with it. Again and again until the only light still on was the one buzzing above their heads.

"Are you ready, my boy?" asked Dumbledore cheerfully.

"As ever, Albus," he replied, no longer much affected by the Headmaster's antics. Dumbledore nodded and clicked the lighter a final time, causing a ball of light to be sucked from the light above into his contraption.

Severus would never admit it, but he sometimes rather admired Albus' style.

The two men walked in determined silence down the pitch dark street. Dumbledore threw out a hand to stop Severus when they arrived at number four.

"Here we are, my boy…Shall we?"

"After you, Headmaster," Severus responded, opening the gate so that his colleague might go ahead.

Dumbledore walked ahead and rapped purposefully on the door, just below the gold-plated number four that shone with a dull gleam beneath the porch light. The door was flung open, revealing two furious looking individuals- Vernon Dursley, with his incredible bulk and thick moustache, and Petunia Dursley, a thin, horse-faced woman.

Albus greeted the pair congenially, as if he hadn't just woken them at two in the morning, "Good evening, Petunia. Vernon," he said, nodding to each in turn, as he expertly ignored Vernon's infuriated blustering, "No time to dither, I'm afraid, rather important business to discuss," he said, pushing past them into their sitting room. Severus could follow quietly and watch with a smile.

"Now," said Dumbledore waving his wand so that the couch came forward and knocked out both of the Dursley's feet from under them, "We've been having a real devil of a time tracking down your nephew- I'm sure that you are just as worried as we are-"

Vernon interrupted the old wizard, seemingly the minute the powers of speech returned to him, "The boy isn't our problem anymore," he said with a self-satisfied smirk, "Never should have been in the first place, at that."

The glint in Dumbledore's eyes grew hard…if he hadn't been such an idiot, Severus might have deigned to feel pity for the man across from him.

"You will tell me what has happened to Mr. Potter," there was no hint of a request in the Headmaster's tone.

The simpleton on the couch still didn't seem to get it. He snorted before replying, "Fine. Sent the bloody nuisance off to live with his father. Not our blood, not our problem," even Severus was shocked by the simple callousness of the statement.

If Albus had been mad before, now he was furious. He barely whispered as he said, "Harry's parents have been dead for the better part of two decades."

Another snort (by Severus' estimation, the man truly had no sense of self-preservation), "Apparently not- the boy was adopted. The father agreed to take him back and we were rather pleased to get him off our hands…Isn't that right, love?" he asked, off-hand. Petunia did not respond, apparently not sharing in her husband's casual underestimation of their unwelcome visitors.

Severus couldn't resist, "Is it indeed, Petunia?" he asked in a low, silky whisper. Her shocked jump was incredibly satisfying. She had apparently been so absorbed by Albus that she had failed to take in his lurking presence in the entryway. Silly chit. He could have killed her several times over by now.

"S-Severus Snape," she stammered. He saw calculation fly through her eyes before she rose and quickly wrote an address down on a scrap of paper, handing it to him.

"Take it," she whispered hoarsely, "Take it and go."

He let a single delicate eyebrow rise as he looked Petunia in the eye. Slowly, agonizingly so, he unfolded the paper and read what she had scrawled there. He blanched.

"You have no idea," he rasped, "No idea what you have done."

And with that, he quickly apparated away, not bothering with waiting for the headmaster.

Albus looked at both Petunia and Vernon in turn, piercing them with a look, "This has not finished," he intoned, returning to the school, intent upon finding Severus.

…

_Summer, Hogwarts_

Eventually, Albus made his way to his own office, quietly closing the door behind him when he saw his normally stalwart Potions Master sitting before his desk cradling his face in his palms.

"Severus, my boy," he said, he voice soft, "What-"

Before he could even ask, the younger man thrust the crumpled piece of paper at the Headmaster. The man smoothed it out and felt his face fall as he recognized the address.

"Your-"

"Yes," Severus replied, his voice carefully devoid of feeling, "My father's home."

"Forgive me, Severus," replied the Headmaster solemnly, "I didn't know that Mr. Potter was adopted…and I certainly did not know that he was your-"

Severus simply waved off the older man, "Your apologies are unnecessary, Albus," he responded formally, "You know as well as I do how infertility is regarded amongst those who were raised…traditionally."

The Headmaster nodded, exhausted, returning to the seat behind his desk. While Lily Potter had been Muggleborn, her husband had been from a long line of Purebloods; even for the more modern, sterility was met with pity and seen as a deep personal embarrassment.

"I suppose that Lily was glamoured…" Severus thought aloud, rubbing at his temples, recalling having seen the vibrant redhead heavy with pregnancy in one or two pictures.

"It is not uncommon," replied the Headmaster gently, which was the truth. The handful of adoption agencies that serviced Wizarding Britain would often provide long-term glamours for the adoptive mother and boast of their discreet service, profiting off of archaic values.

"We have to get him away from there," said the dark-haired man bluntly, eyes still shut as he fought off what promised to be a massive headache.

"Of course," said Dumbledore seriously, "He is completely exposed there. Were Tom to find-"

Severus cut him off, his black eyes snapped open, glinting dangerously, "That's not what I meant, old man, and you know it."

Dumbledore sighed, "I know. However, there is precious little we can do about it tonight."

Severus grunted his agreement, "Tomorrow, then? I wouldn't leave anyone with that bastard for too long…even if it is Potter."

…

_Summer, Spinner's End_

…

A/N- I hope that you enjoyed! Please leave a review. I'm particularly interested to know if the non-traditional structure is throwing anyone off…I don't find it difficult to follow, but, then I'm a bit biased.

Entirely off topic, but if you ever want to cry yourself silly over an HP fanfic, I would heartily recommend 'Chaos is Come Again'. It's a really narratively gratifying, heart-breaking, HG/SS modified Marriage Law. Google it. Seriously.


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